


Pastperfect

by ipso__facto (ipso_facto)



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, Band, Brothers, Cigarettes, Dresden - Freeform, Driveshaft, F/M, Implied Incest, Jealousy, M/M, Manchester, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-28
Updated: 2005-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipso_facto/pseuds/ipso__facto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pastperfect for cindyjade - Lost, Charlie/Liam, flicker and shine</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pastperfect

"Give me that." The words scrape over Charlie's raw throat, their rough edges catching on his vocal chords but he chokes them out anyway, eyeing the cigarette in his brother's mouth. Even drunk and high, Liam is just enough taller (fastersmarterstronger) that Charlie can't reach up and hook the thing between his fingers with any sort of ease. So he waits, and Liam's eyes gleam in the darkness. Charlie's fingers tighten on the neck of his bottle and he stops to take a swig, closing his eyes against the Dresden night lights. Liam keeps walking, striding faster and Charlie stumbles, trying to keep up.  
  
God, he doesn't even want the smoke, just wants to take the damned thing from his smirking smart-arsed brother, wants to have something Liam doesn't for one sodding second. He throws his weight forward and hops up but Liam pulls his face away, lips curving skyward at the edges as he inhales deeply, and Charlie's long fingers close on empty air. His feet find the uneven city street before he's ready and his knees buckle on impact. Barking out a curse, he flings a hand down to catch himself, his bottle shattering on the pavement, but Liam laughs too loudly and grabs him round the waist, supporting him until he can stand and then setting him gently back on his feet. Charlie resents that, too, the gentleness, and he pulls away when Liam reaches out to ruffle his hair.  
  
"Aw, what's the matter, baby brother? Can't take the heat?" But Liam's attention wanders before he finishes the sentence, holding the cigarette absently out towards Charlie. His eyes are on two birds in skirts and heels, passing up ahead. Charlie growls, and swipes at the stick. Red-hot ash scatters on the ground when it hits, sparks fizzing in small puddles before it rolls to a stop against the curb. One of the girls giggles and leans over to point them out to her friend, hiding her face behind her hand. A stream of foreign words trickles out, unintelligible and a streetlight twinkles off of her thick silver bracelet, the reflection striking him in the right eye. Charlie thinks he might go blind before they pass. Liam turns to him and winks, then stands taller and straightens his shirt, swaggering towards them.  
  
"Oi, my pretties," he calls, somehow managing a semblence of suave and cool without being able to walk straight, and the girls fuss and preen, the brunette on the right simpering up at him and fluttering her eyelashes. Charlie folds his arms across his chest and waits, swaying on his feet. Liam wants a fix or a drink or a fuck or all three and he's going to get whatever he wants, like always. And all Charlie wants is to go back to the beginning - to fucking Manchester and the band and the clubs and girls who curse and fight and fuck like boys - with heat and fire in their fingertips.  
  
These girls don't speak English and they don't know Driveshaft from a pile of dog shit, but their faces shine when Liam drags his fingers through the brunette's long hair, tipping her chin up with one finger and bringing his lips close to hers. She looks up at him, heavy-lidded and Charlie knows she's done for, knows, doesn't he, how his brother looks from there, pink tongue flickering out to swipe tenderly at his lips. Impossible to resist. He sees the muscles shift in Liam's face as they kiss, licking softly at his own dry lips. The other girl looks towards Charlie, wide-eyed, two spots of color high on her cheeks, but he ignores her. He watches the light catch on Liam's rings as he slides his hand down the pale column of the girl's neck, watches the webbing of his tanned fingers as he splays them in the hollow of her throat and remembers the feel of guitar callouses on the skin at the small of his back, sliding between the crack of his ass. Remembers what got them here.  
  
Charlie falls to his knees and retches into the gutter until there's nothing left.


End file.
